


get me out of my mind (and get you out of those clothes)

by oximore



Series: [Hedge Witch Quentin AU] [1]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, M/M, What Was I Thinking?, aka Quentin is a hedge witch and Eliot may be looking for a hookup, because the boys are full of feels, hedge witch quentin, here goes nothing I guess, like barely a hint of plot somewhere maybe, maybe some feels sneaking in, the major difference with canon being that Q knows he is bi (or pan), this is both cheesy and smutty like, this is legit just bad smut no plot, well there is also the whole hedge witch business, who wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:06:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oximore/pseuds/oximore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't that Eliot never slept with Hedge Witches, but that he usually knew beforehand what it was about when it happened. They wanted something, he wanted something and everything was a carefully delimited transaction.</p><p>There was nothing careful or clearly delimited here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	get me out of my mind (and get you out of those clothes)

**Author's Note:**

> [aka a unnecessary Alternate Universe where Quentin is a Hegde Witch]

It wasn't that Eliot never slept with Hedge Witches, but that he usually knew beforehand what it was about when it happened. They wanted something, he wanted something and everything was a carefully delimited transaction.

 

There was nothing careful or clearly delimited here.

 

Eliot wasn't even sure why he noticed that guy.

 

There wasn’t anything extraordinary about him. He didn't even give Eliot a good "probably into guys" vibe. Still, Eliot noticed him earlier that night and hadn't been able to stop his eyes from following him around, as average as he seemed. He certainly didn't look like he was having much fun, almost like this was all some bizarre chore for him. The party was huge, bigger than the ones in Brakebills in fact. That's why Eliot had come here in the first place, surrounded by unknown faces, hoping to numb himself in the familiar throb of too much alcohol, drugs and hopefully sex. Graduation seemed too close now, his need to escape growing. He wondered briefly where Margo had gone, then remembered that she had left already, not without telling him she was going for a sexscapade with… whatever his name had been.

 

Eliot didn't even realize the guy was a Hedge Witch as he made his move, brown eyes studying him carefully, making Eliot feel hot in a slightly troublesome way. Quite frankly he hadn't been sure it would even work, fully prepared to be turned-down more or less crudely. But he wasn't. Quentin, as he introduced himself, laughed softly when Eliot flirted with him before telling him this really wasn't his scene, vaguely gesturing to the party around them. Eliot wasn't surprised. What surprised him however was to find that even with the alcohol in both of them, Quentin's mind was in many ways as sharp as his own. Though he was the quiet type, he had a sarcastic streak to match Eliot’s. Although, underneath that, Eliot thought he could sense something different. Something that made Eliot hungry in a way he wasn't entirely comfortable with.

 

It's only later, after somehow moving to a disastrous couch where they started making out, their half-pretend small talk forgotten, that Eliot got it. Magic. That's what it was. He felt remarkably dumb for noticing it so late, tearing himself away from the kiss.

 

"You're a Hedge Witch" he whispered, surprise clear in his tone, and trying not to think about the way Quentin's low laugh against his mouth made him a bit hard.

 

"Thought you knew that already. Is that going to be a problem, ô great and mighty magician?" he chuckled, his lips brushing the corner of Eliot's mouth, nearly kissing the skin there. He didn't seem overly concerned and Eliot responded automatically, his mouth chasing after Quentin's. He couldn't remember being that eager in a very long time but it suddenly had a sour aftertaste.

 

"Are... is this... do you want something?" he asked, wishing he sounded less bitter.

 

Quentin rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling.

 

"Pretty sure you're the one who wanted something here." he said, straddling Eliot before kissing him again. Eliot distantly thought they would have to think about relocating soon, his hips bucking against Quentin’s. They were both half hard already. "What is it with you Brakebills magicians, always worried we're here to steal scraps from you?"

 

It took him longer than he’d liked to admit to get that Quentin was joking and not actually accusing Eliot. He could have. Eliot had been in this situation enough times not to expect a Hedge Witch to be after him and not only after the eventuality of more magic. Even if he had a tough time seeing it happening with Quentin… And Quentin was right, Eliot had been the one coming after him, not the other way around. The sourness in his mouth melted away.

 

"What can I say? We're incredibly arrogant that way." he told Quentin with a smirk, hoping to sound more confident than he felt. He initiated the kiss this time, swallowing the little sound Quentin made that wasn’t quite a moan yet but getting close.

 

"I know," Quentin managed when they stopped, panting softly, "weirdly enough I kinda don't mind that about you?" and he sounded so honest that Eliot couldn't help grabbing him by the neck and pulling him back in.

 

"I really want to get you naked" he whispered later, hands pulling Quentin closer to his body as Quentin bit down lightly on his neck, "and as fond as I am of public indecency, privacy seems like a good idea for that - unless you're really into public shows in which case we are probably going in the right direction."

 

Quentin swore, as if he just remembered where they were, and pulled himself away. Eliot had to stop himself from instinctively reaching out to keep him there - desperation was really not attractive. Quentin climbed off him and got himself back up on his feet, reaching for Eliot's hand to get him off the couch too.

 

"Uh…Follow me then?" he asked without letting go of Eliot's hand before walking them through the mess of people.

 

They went trough a few doors, Eliot not really paying attention, his pants feeling uncomfortably tight. Something small and avid kept fluttering in his guts despite his brain telling him this was probably a terrible idea. Another door closed behind him and Quentin turned around, pushing him against it. Eliot noticed that he was on his tiptoes to kiss him, hands on his vest to drag him down and something warm spread dangerously fast inside him. The kiss was distracting, but not enough for him not to notice where he was.

 

"Was that a portal?" he asked a bit breathless. "You have a portal between that place and your apartment?"

 

There was an interesting mix of annoyance, amusement and pride on Quentin's face.

 

"Yes Eliot, a portal, magic is amazing," he said with the tiniest hint of a smirk at the edge of his lips, managing to be both mocking and gentle, "now not that I mind talking about magic believe me, but that wasn't really my plan for right now."

 

"Pray tell then," Eliot retorted because he could play this game too and probably even better, "what does that plan of yours involve?"

 

Quentin scoffed, leading them to the bedroom but Eliot was the one to push them both on the bed after they kicked their shoes off, his hands fighting Quentin's clothes right away. He got rid of that awful sweater and the nondescript shirt until he finally reached skin. Quentin didn’t waste time before climbing back on top of him the way he had on the couch and Eliot noticed tattoos on Quentin’s skin. Not stars. Definitely spell related.

 

“Why do you wear so many clothes?” Quentin complained, fighting Eliot’s vest who just laughed, pecking him briefly before helping him out.

 

“Unlike the present uncouth company I’m currently with, some of us appreciate the finer things in life.” Eliot sighed overly dramatically. “Not that it is gaining me any points here but…”

 

“It looks great.” Quentin cut in with a shrug, genuine even though he certainly knew nothing about clothes. “But I would like it even better off you.”

 

Eliot couldn’t see any fault with that reasoning, getting rid of the vest a bit quicker, laughing again as Quentin pushed it away vengefully, already pulling at his shirt. Quentin made the cutest satisfied noise once they got rid of it too before going straight for Eliot’s pants opening them quickly, hand slipping inside. Eliot arched up into it, losing focus a little before swearing quietly and untangling himself from Quentin.

 

“Pants off,” he managed before Quentin could complain, his hands going to Quentin’s fly, “now!”

 

It was rewarding to see Quentin nod eagerly, helping him pushing his pants down his legs before getting rid of Eliot’s too, boxers following the same path. Eliot brought him back on top of him immediately.

 

Kissing Quentin naked shouldn’t feel different yet it did. It felt like more, Eliot’s hands all over naked skin. Quentin’s hands cupped his face carefully, fingers gentle and it was almost too intimate but Eliot leaned into the touch. Then one of the hands on his face moved south, getting Eliot to buck up more forcefully than he expected when nimble fingers clumsily took hold of his dick. “Been a while,” Quentin smiled, apologetic, “I really don’t do this often, but I’m pretty sure I can work it out again.”

 

“I’m a pretty good teacher,” Eliot said hoarsely, hips moving with Quentin’s hand, “if you get lost.”

 

He felt Quentin chuckle more than he saw it. “I’m a pretty fast learner,” he whispered, jerking Eliot off slowly. Eliot drew Quentin’s mouth back to his, drinking him in, swallowing back the _“I bet you are”_ on the tip of his tongue. Quentin whimpered, but kept on experimenting with his rhythm and his hold, fingers becoming more confident, working things out as fast as he had promised. He was evaluating Eliot’s reactions, adapting, until the warmth in Eliot’s guts told him this could all be over really soon if he didn’t stop it. He didn’t want it to end just yet.

 

Eliot wasn’t sure if he wanted to fuck Quentin or to get Quentin to fuck him. Both options made his body clench with a sharp needle of want. It wasn’t always the case - but then again he didn’t always feel as starved for someone as he felt right now. He barely thought about it before Quentin suddenly fell back on the bed, wide-eyed, pinned down by nothing but air and Eliot realized he had just pushed him telekinetically. Which - ok _that_ was embarrassing. It wasn’t something he usually brought to the bedroom, not always bringing the best memories. Except Quentin looked back up at him, pupils completely blown. “Telekinesis?” he asked and Eliot nodded.

 

“Fuck… that’s so hot.” he whispered, unknowingly dissolving the small bit of worry sitting in Eliot’s stomach. It turned back swiftly into raw heat as Quentin caught Eliot’s arm, pulling him down above him licking into his mouth hungrily. “Feel free to do that again.” Quentin told him. “Anytime really.”

 

“Noted.” Eliot said as he slipped his hand in messy longish hair, still pretending he hadn’t wanted to do that since the beginning of the night. He tugged them back, a little too rough, stretching out Quentin’s neck. His mouth dropped on the exposed jaw, biting that taut throat, the moan it got out of Quentin telling him that he really didn’t mind a bit of teeth. They kept moving, skin on skin, humping each other, starting to both feel a little dizzy. Eliot could feel Quentin’s thighs starting to shake faintly with the growing need to come, his own mouth turning dry.

 

“Please tell we you have lube somewhere.” he asked plaintively, pushing himself back up in a sitting position. He wasn’t sure he could deal with the disappointment if Quentin didn’t have anything. Thankfully Quentin acquiesced, rising to follow Eliot and trying to put words together to explain _where_ it was until he seemed to just give up. Eliot was about to ask again when suddenly there was a bottle of lube and condoms on the bed.

 

“Party trick.” Quentin breathed out with a somewhat self-conscious smile.

 

“A very practical one.” Eliot replied honestly, already reaching for the lube before beckoning Quentin to straddle him again. Quentin did, gracelessly, though Eliot was long past caring about that. He helped getting the condoms on and lube on his fingers before turning Eliot’s face up, toward him and kissing him deeply.

 

“Well”, Quentin said with a gasp as Eliot’s fingers started to breach him open, “I just make things appear. Not nearly as cool as telekinesis.”

 

Eliot’s mouth was going everywhere he could reach, Quentin’s collarbone, his shoulders, his chest, tasting as his fingers moved carefully. “Not everyone reacts as well as you do.” He said.

 

“Then they are idiots,” Quentin retorted, before a twist of Eliot’s fingers made his entire body shudder, reducing the end of his sentence to a choked whine.

 

“It can be dangerous.” Eliot told him, his voice so hoarse now it was almost a groan.

 

But it only made Quentin grin. “Magic is dangerous,” He said, flushed, hair a mess and something wild in his voice, his hand rising to touch Eliot’s face, “it’s part of why it’s so goddamn beautiful.” His eyes were staring down at Eliot like the really saw him and fuck he was the one beautiful here. Eliot had to avert his eyes.

 

He dipped his head down, heart beating wildly, needing the distraction of taking Quentin in his mouth as he curled his fingers inside him, swallowing his cock. Quentin’s entire body tensed, almost making Eliot smile because yes, this was _good_ , until a hand grabbed the back of his hair tightly, pulling him back.

 

“No,” Quentin growled and it sounded so much like an order that Eliot felt himself losing it a little, eyes glazed, barely daring to even lick his lips, “not like this.”

 

Eliot knew Quentin could feel him tremble with how keyed-up he was for it now, the hand in his hair slowly relaxing. He feverishly got Quentin fully ready after that, almost blind with want and the overwhelming need to please, greedily drinking every moan, every approving noise until Quentin sank down on him with a long string of half strangled _“yes, yes, yes, yes”_. Eliot couldn’t remember being so swayed by someone - especially when he was the one fucking them – while feeling so utterly gratified. Quentin moved in synch with him as much as he could, inelegant and rushed, their mouths open, touching but not really kissing anymore. Eliot had no idea how he hadn’t come yet. Except maybe because his desperate need to bring Quentin to climax first overruled his own need.

 

Quentin was quiet when he came. It wasn’t long before Eliot followed suit, buried deep inside, biting down on Quentin’s shoulder because he was a lot of things but quiet wasn’t one of them. Quentin twitched, making a pleased sound. It tugged on something in Eliot that he couldn't quite pinpoint. They fell on their sides, sweaty and still locked together. Quentin kissed Eliot, lazy and soft with just a hint of teeth, before extricating himself with a low moan that made Eliot wish he could get hard again. Instead he mechanically got rid of the condom, tying it and throwing it on the floor, unable to bring himself to move more than that just yet.

 

Quentin chuckled, almost timidly now, and somehow had a towel in hand. “Your _“making stuff appear”_ thingy is definitely better than telekinesis.” Eliot mumbled sincerely, pretending not to feel so goddamn warm when Quentin’s smile widened. “I think you may be biased.” He gingerly responded and Eliot shushed him because of course he was, but who cared?

 

A voice in the back of Eliot’s head kept telling him that this was when he should probably gather his things before hastily getting his clothes back on and making his exit. He didn’t move, stretched on the bed, unwilling to set himself in motion just yet. Quentin fell back next to him with a sigh after summarily cleaning both of them.

 

“If you’re still here tomorrow,” he murmured to Eliot, sounding sleepy and sated, “I would really like to fuck you in the morning.”

 

Eliot’s breath caught in his throat, and he felt his dick twitch valiantly at the thought. He elbowed Quentin a little.

 

“Not fair.” He grumbled wanly, but he knew he was smiling.

 

He could also hear the smile in Quentin’s voice when he said, half asleep already “well, life isn’t fair anyway”.

 

Eliot wanted to say something witty back, but they were both asleep before he could manage that feat.

.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [this is 100% moregeous-kieren's fault I really wasn't planning to post this & even less for it to become a series]


End file.
